


A Court of Fire and Shadows

by WildflowerDreams



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-24
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-08-17 00:00:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 21,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8122654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WildflowerDreams/pseuds/WildflowerDreams
Summary: As Feyre works to infiltrate the Spring Court, what she thought would be a simple information gathering mission quickly turns into a deadlier game of fire and shadows. How far will she have to go to protect those she loves? Will Feyre stand against the King of Hybern or be burned in the process?This story is also on fanfiction.net





	1. Chapter 1

Feyre

Tamlin grasped my hand tightly in his as we strode into the Spring court manor, Lucian following closely behind. I had plastered a relieved smile on my face, ever the damsel in distress. I would toe the line with Tamlin, let him believe he'd saved me, and gather what information I could to keep my court a step ahead of the King of Hybern. I would play this game for Rhys and my true court.

  
I thought back to the friends I’d left behind; replayed the moment the king had shredded Cassian’s wings with a cruel blast of his magic, the moment my sisters’ human lives were ended and they were turned by the Cauldron into something they feared and hated, the last moment I’d seen Rhys and the agony in his eyes before they’d all winnowed away.

  
I would gladly give myself to stand between the ones I loved and Hybern. Even if it meant pretending finding my mate and my true court were a lie. It was an effort to keep my claws from emerging as Tamlin pulled me along.

  
I suppose I had been expecting to walk into the same pristine, luxurious Spring manor I’d escaped only a few months ago. So I was shocked to discover the once stunning tapestries in tatters, dust coating ruined furniture, and large clawed gouges spread across the walls. I paused our ascent as a small part of me imagined Tamlin unleashing his fury at the manor, at his servants… As though reading the questions on my face, Tamlin simply pulled me away from the scene towards the study.

  
Lucian made to enter behind us, but Tamlin waved him away and closed the heavy door on his stunned face. I heard the muffled swearing and footsteps leading away. I was working on smothering a laugh, when I realized I was alone with Tamlin. My laughter died swiftly.

  
I had barely turned to face him when he pulled me roughly into his arms. It was too easy to remember the girl who would have gladly given the world to hide in these arms. I almost gagged.

 

He stroked my hair softly as he said, “I missed you so much, Feyre.”

  
“I missed you, too, Tam,” I choked out. I had to do better than this. I couldn’t let my emotions get in the way of my mission. There was no one else standing in the way of the King of Hybern. If I failed, not only could I end up trapped here in the Spring court, but Rhys and everyone I loved could end up dead. So, I forced myself to become pliant and pressed myself further into Tamlin’s arms.

  
He kissed the base of my neck, dragging his nose along as he made his way up to my jaw. His arms slid down my sides and tightened at my waist. I closed my eyes as he spun me to get better access to my neck. He growled softly as he pulled me closer and I felt the hardness of his body against mine. I was already thinking up excuses, when I felt his body stiffen.

  
He breathed in deeply along my neck and frowned suddenly. I met his hard emerald gaze, blankly. “You smell…different.”  
I looked away, trying to think my way out even as I felt the telltale tug from the bond to my mate that had surely not been broken by the king. I tried not to look at the glamour around my tattooed arm.

  
“I need to know what happened, Feyre.” Noticing my face he continued, reluctantly. “But we don’t have to talk about it right now. Not until you’re ready.” He began stroking my hair again, almost as if trying to calm a skittering rabbit, as if he were afraid I might run at the slightest thing.  
I caught his hand, stopping him.

  
Tamlin’s eyes flicked to my lips, then down my body, assessing me. I was still clothed in the Illyrian fighting leathers and weapons holsters. Tamlin seemed to realize this and frowned again. I had to give him something before he shut me out again. Let him think I was still a rabbit and not a wolf.

  
“They—they made me fight for their amusement.”

  
His shoulders tensed with concern and fury, as his eyes shot up to mine. “Feyre—”

  
I looked away. “—you saved me, Tam.”

  
He shuddered and his hold on me was almost painful, “You won’t ever have to fight again, my Feyre. You won’t ever have to wield a weapon, because I will protect you.” Tamlin glanced at my gear once again before waving his hand and vanishing the fighting leathers, holsters, and remaining weapons.

  
I was left feeling little more than naked in a gauze pastel pink gown and bare feet. The top was fitted, almost painfully so, with a softly beaded neckline that dipped low. The skirt of the gown floated down into delicate pleats, lightly grazing the floor. I tugged on the bond again and felt a very faint rush of love from Rhys. I could feel him telling me to stay strong, even if I could not hear his voice through our weakened bond.  


  
I'm not that girl anymore, I'm not that girl anymore...

  
I felt Tamlin’s gaze roaming my body and I shoved down the crawling disgust I felt. I needed to distract him.

  
“Tamlin,” I said, cautiously. “What Ianthe did…”

  
Any lingering lust leeched out of him at the mention of Ianthe. Thank the Cauldron.

  
He walked away from me and sat down in a deep, velvet armchair. “We’ll get them back, Feyre. Just give me time to get things settled with the king. Your rescue was…complicated. The Night Court has a lot to answer for,” his claws curled out and he picked at them, considering. “As for Ianthe…she must be punished. However—”

  
“—however?”

  
“However, she’s been officially anointed as the Spring Court’s High Priestess and things must be handled diplomatically, Feyre. We cannot strike down a High Priestess for a mistake she may have made, especially not when those truly at fault are the Night Court.”

  
A response. He was waiting for a response. I had to school my expression, before he could see the molting fury beneath the surface, before I failed my mission minutes after it’d begun. But to suggest that Rhysand was at fault for what had happened to my sisters, at fault for the whole mess with the king in the first place…

  
Breathe, Feyre. “You’re right, Tam. I trust you and I will follow your lead. But I want to be a part of things now. Don’t shut me out.”

  
“I promise, Feyre, that things will be different this time.” Yes, they will, Tamlin, though you don’t even know the half of it.

  
“As for tonight, I’ve arranged for your old room to be cleaned. I know you might not be ready to share our bed.” A silent question in his eyes: what happened at the Night Court? Did Rhysand hurt you?

  
I simply nodded and turned to leave, when Tamlin crossed the room and drew me into his arms again, this time sweeping my legs out from under me. He carried me up the stairs and into my room, dropping me gently on my bed. Candles were glowing dimly throughout the spacious bedroom and I could see it looked just as I’d left it, no dust or claw marks visible here.

  
Tamlin lingered at the foot of the bed. His hesitation was infuriating. I shot him a simpering smile.

  
“I love you, Feyre.”

  
“And I, you, Tam.”

  
He bent over me on the bed and held my chin lightly as he placed a kiss on my lips. He placed two more kisses along my jaw before he pulled away, bid me good night and left the room.

  
I touched my lips as I felt the gravity of what my mission might entail, replaying the kisses from Tamlin. I almost didn’t make it to the bathing room before I vomited.

______________________________________________________________________________________________

Feyre

I woke up to the heavy feeling of midday sunlight on my face. Someone had pulled the curtains back as I slept.

I tugged on my bond lightly, just to make sure it was still there and felt a swath of love coming from Rhys. My arms felt empty and I wished, not for the first time since I’d arrived, that Rhys were here to touch, to comfort me, that the bond were strong enough to at least let me hear his voice. It did feel a bit stronger than yesterday, but was largely clouded. Whatever the king had done when he’d tried breaking the mating bond had damaged our link and it would take some time to repair itself. 

I sighed and decided to face the day, frowning as I noticed the pastel gown I still wore. I hadn’t bothered to change last night. Some of the neckline beading had torn off as I’d tossed and turned. I stripped off the ruined dress and dumped it on the floor. 

I made my way to my dressers, half wondering what would happen if I showed up to lunch wearing my Night Court attire. But as I looked through the drawers filled with a staggering amount of pretty pastel gowns, there was no trace of any Night Court clothing. No doubt Tamlin had seen those outfits destroyed, possibly shredded them himself. 

No Night Court attire and definitely no slacks or tunics. Nothing but dresses for the pretty Lady of Spring. 

Sighing again, I resigned myself to another dress; a pale green flowy dress that capped off around my knees. The neckline was squared chastely, but the back of the dress scooped down low. It was a bit daring for Spring Court. If anything, it would help my mission. It would keep Tamlin distracted while I fed my court any information that could keep us one step ahead of the king. 

I had just pulled the dress on when I heard a soft tap on the door. Alis!

I rushed over, but it was not Alis who stood in the doorway. A short, dark-haired Fae stood in the doorway. Her skin was milky white, her face smattered with freckles. 

She curtsied, “Hello, milady. I’m here to assist you in dressing.” 

Without waiting for a response, she quietly padded into the bathing room and held up a hair brush. 

I wanted to ask about Alis, but I didn’t know this Fae. What if she reported my questions to Tamlin? I followed her and sat down before the sink. “What’s your name?”

Her russet brown eyes flickered around the room, she was nervous to be here. “My name is Reila, milady.”

She began threading the brush through my hair. It had been months since I had last cut it and it now pooled near my lower back. There were quite a few tangles, as I hadn’t bothered much with it the past few days. What with Hybern and all. Reila made short work of the mangled hair and then the intricate braids that she weaved into a tight crown atop my head. 

When that was finished, she quickly, but expertly applied cosmetics on my face. A bit of rosy blush, some light brown kohl to define my eyes, and a lip stain to turn my lips bitten-berry. 

She patted my shoulder when her work was done and walked out, taking the ruined dress with her and leaving me to examine my appearance in the mirror.

Even with the despair at my current situation, I had to admit she’d made me beautiful. I had a healthier glow to my skin I hadn’t had in days. The irony did not escape me knowing it was Rhys, not Tamlin who had me glowing naturally, no makeup necessary. 

I sighed yet again and closed the door lightly as I made my way to the dining hall. 

I didn’t make it far before I was intercepted by Lucian.

He gripped my elbow tightly, steering me into an empty room and closing the door. He scanned the room, making sure we were alone.

“Lucian, what—”

“—how did you break free from Rhysand?” His metal eye whirring as he assessed me. 

I didn’t dare look away. “It all happened so quickly, something must have shifted inside me.”

“Bullshit.”

I balked, “Lucian!”

“Look, Feyre, I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but this is my home. There are other lives at stake here than just yours, including my mate’s.”

He paused as a low growl slipped from me. 

“I don’t want Elain caught in the crossfire.”

“I’m not here to cause trouble, Lucian.”

He gave me a withering look as if to say he didn’t believe a word I’d said.

“Feyre, when your sisters were taken you were not the least bit worried about their well being. Tamlin might believe your story, but I saw you that day in the forest with Rhysand. I’m not an idiot.”

I smirked. “Are you suggesting Tamlin is?”

Lucian scowled. “What I’m suggesting is you watch yourself. I won’t stand by and let you tear this court apart again.”

My smile vanished. “Like you stood by when I was falling apart?” 

He flinched. “Why are you here, Feyre?”

“Lucian,” I said, carefully. “I’m here because I want to make things right.” Not for Tamlin, but finding the cauldron and ending it as I should have done at the castle in Hybern. Stopping the king.

And Lucian knew what I meant. I could see the gleam in his eyes, the triumph at having been right about me. My body went cold. 

So I switched tactics. “You say that you’re worried for my sister, your mate, but what kind of a man are you? If you think Elain would be with a man content to hide by the sidelines, you’re wrong.”

Anger rippled through him, but I knew my words had hit their mark. He wouldn’t move against me, not while I held sway over Elain. Not when one word from me would ensure he’d never see her again. 

My former friend glared at me as he practically snarled, “Your betrothed, Lord Tamlin, awaits you in the gardens.”

Lucian yanked the door open and stormed away, somehow managing to be silent in his rage.

There was nothing left for me to do, but to go out and meet Tamlin.


	2. A Court of Fire and Shadows: Chapter 2

Feyre

I had just reached the fountain in the center of the gardens when I found a note waiting for me on one of the benches. 

Meet me in our meadow.  
-Tam

I cursed as I noticed the wildflower petals leading from the bench to a white horse hitched to a fence post. He’d even weaved flower petals into the mare’s silver hair. 

Oh, gods.

I knew Rhys felt my annoyance, as I felt a flicker of laughter coming down the bond. Prick, I’m doing this for you. Silence. The bond was still too foggy for words, then.

I climbed onto the horse and held onto the reins as we trotted our way towards the meadow. It wasn’t far, but it was secluded and private, as I’m sure Tamlin had planned. 

Even as my heart ached, I admired the ride to the meadow. The Dogwood trees were flowering, their white flowers shining under the sliver of sun peeking into the forest. Some of the flower petals wafted in the wind along my path. Too soon, the trees began to thin and I saw the soft rolling hills near Tamlin’s meadow.

I dismounted, patting the horse before leaving her to face today’s horrors.

Tamlin was waiting for me, dressed in a fine pale gold suit, standing by a small table that had been setup near a sparkling lake. He’d once told me this was his favorite spot in all of the Spring Court. 

“My Feyre,” he smiled and held out his hands for me. 

I crossed to him and placed my hands in his, hoping he couldn’t read my face too well. 

“I had the chef bring our dinner out here for today. Please, sit.”

Tamlin held my chair back and placed a cloth white napkin on my lap, his warm hand brushing my bare leg as he did so. I tried not to flinch at the sensation. 

And so we had dinner together. Tamlin serving me whenever I asked for more. The next course more delicious than the last. After dessert, he waved his hand and sent the table, chairs, and our dishes back to the manor. 

A thick, butterscotch colored blanket appeared on the soft grass next to us.

Tamlin silently led me towards it and sat us down. From here, I could see sky turning golden as the sun began to set. The thin clouds dispersing as nighttime approached. I imagined the sky blues melding into mauves and a deeper violet, making me miss Rhys with a fierce ache. 

"Feyre," Tamlin pulled my chin away from the setting sun to face him. "I'm so happy you're home. I searched for you for months, hoping to find you or that you would find some way to come back to me. To have survived the Night Court..." he shuddered. Bastard. "...no one has ever done so. I realize now that you are as strong as you are beautiful. And I don't want to wait any longer."

He paused, stroking my cheek with his hand. 

“You are my Spring Lady. And I want to make it official. Marry me.”

My eyes went wide as I finally spotted the small wooden box he’d been holding. 

“I want us to start over and close a chapter that looms over us. Will you marry me, Feyre?”

He took my hand, ring ready, and all grins as he already knew my answer. 

“Yes, Tamlin!” I forced the nerves in my throat to pass for excitement. And those really were tears flowing down my face, though they were not tears of joy. Rhys, Rhys. This isn’t real. I’m doing this for you. This isn’t real. Silence. 

Tamlin swiped at the tears on my cheeks and looked deep in my eyes as he slipped the delicate gold ring onto my finger. And I swear I could feel the heat in my hand trying to burn the damn thing, but I kept the magic at bay. 

“Feyre,” he whispered, pulling me towards him. His kisses soft at first, but growing more demanding. I felt the silent question on his lips, but said nothing. He pulled me onto his lap and I knew where he wanted this to lead.

I reached into his mind with my claws to stop his advances. At least, I tried to. I couldn’t get past his mental shields. Had I ever? Well, I’d never tried. I prayed Tamlin didn’t feel the mental sabotage as I tried to find another way out. 

His hands were circling lower now, sliding down my waist and dipping to the short hem of my dress. And I couldn’t do it. I wouldn’t. So, I did the only thing I knew would stop Tamlin in his tracks. 

I pressed myself against him, pulling his head down towards me, biting at his earlobe and moaned softly into his ear, “Rhysand….”

Tamlin fell back, almost bucking me off of him. His responding glare was explosive, but I didn’t look away. Instead, I urged the tears to fall again. 

“Tamlin, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened…” 

He was a block of ice under my hands as I forced myself, sobbing, into his arms. 

It took a minute, but Tamlin finally unfroze. He took a few shuddering breaths, willing his rage to leech out of him. Slowly, he put his arms around me and began rubbing jerking circles down my back. When I’d stopped crying, he stood and helped me up, lifting me in his arms to where the horse waited. As soon as I was secured, Tamlin climbed on the mare and guided us back to the manor. 

He was silent for a while, focused on directing the mare through the darkening forest. We were almost back at the manor, when he finally asked the question I knew was burning through him, “Feyre, did Rhysand…?”

“I don’t know, Tamlin. I don’t want to remember.”

He cursed and we didn’t talk again until he at last walked me to my bedroom door. 

I made to enter, but he grabbed my left hand, holding me at the threshold. “Feyre, I know that it might take a while before you are ready, but you are safe now. I will protect you.”

I nodded. “Goodnight, Tamlin.”

“Goodnight, my Feyre.”

The shaking began a few minutes after he left. Tonight would be a sleepless night. I wrenched off the green dress, dumping it on the floor, and threw on the first nightgown I saw. Wanting to throw the golden ring across the room, but knowing I shouldn’t, I tugged on my bond instead. Rhysand seemed to be saying I’m here, I just wished I could hear his voice. 

We hadn’t gotten married the day I’d been sworn in as High Lady of the Night Court. I hadn’t thought I would regret that decision. We’d decided to wait until after the threat of Hybern had been dealt with. I didn’t know how long I’d be here in Spring and dreaded the thought of saying those vows to Tamlin, even as the mate bond trumped any claim through marriage. 

I lay in bed for a long time, willing for sleep to come, watching as the sky lightened. I tugged on my bond to Rhysand feeling his love surging through and, with that, finally succumbed to sleep.

______________________________________________________________________________________________

Rhysand

I lay awake in bed, sending waves of love and calming energy to my mate. My mate who was miles away in a court surrounded by our enemies. It had taken everything in me to watch her go, reminding myself that we would not survive Hybern without Feyre. With our bargain broken and our bond still healing, I received only faint glimmers of emotions. It was agony, but I would never have caged her as Tamlin had so heartlessly tried to do. Still, I felt helpless in a way I hadn't since Amarantha. Since I had met Feyre Under the Mountain.

It might seem callous, but knowing that Feyre was hurting yet physically unharmed was better than nothing at all. At least, that is what I told myself whenever I'd find myself hurtling towards Spring.

It was a long time before I felt Feyre finally drifting to sleep.

I dressed quickly, knowing sleep for me would be a long way off. Amren was setting vigil over Cassian in the House of Wind and I knew she’d need to be relieved soon. 

The night blurred underneath my wings as I flew to the house. I’d thought about staying with Cassian, but there was so much to do in Velaris. My people had rallied, repairing wards and rebuilding as best they could. Though what we could do to prevent another attack from Hybern…

Feyre’s sisters, Nesta and Elain, were another concern. They continually refused my offers to help, instead leaning on Morrigan to see their needs met. The irony did not escape me, though I had barely registered any amusement from it. We had agreed they would be safest at the cabin in the mountains and they had been transported there two days ago. I had not heard from them since, but Mor assured me they were doing as best they could under the circumstances. 

If Feyre were here, she would know what to say to her sisters. I felt at a loss at what to say. I still saw the sisters who had taken advantage of Feyre, who had not helped when their family had hit bottom. Still, I remembered the despair in Feyre’s eyes as the sisters she’d known were forever changed. I remembered Feyre when I had ripped her away from Spring; the hollowness in her eyes. I wouldn’t let that happen to her sisters. I just had to find a way to reach them. 

I landed on one of the balconies and made my way inside. Amren was waiting for me, a hand on her hips and a foot tapping away nervously. We both wore twin dark rings under our eyes. She went back to her post in the corner of the room, curling up with the now combined Book of Breathings. It had taken on an almost otherworldly glow since the two halves had been made whole. I worried about the warnings we’d received against doing that. 

Too late for that.

I padded quietly over to Cassian’s temporary room, slipping inside without the door creaking. Cassian lay across a bed that seemed almost too small to hold him. His face was drenched with sweat, his wings a mangled mess propped above him. He’d been carefully tied down to prevent further damage to his wings. A salve had been applied, though there had not been much else our healers could do for him. 

I closed my eyes. Trying to blot out the horrific tears and tatters throughout his wings. Cassian had not awoken since we’d escaped Hybern. The healers had told us he might not wake. Maybe some unconscious knowledge of his grave injuries kept him from waking. I knew that if he lost his wings, Cassian would not want to live. 

I muffled a dry sob, exiting the room before I could rustle Cassian. Amren was doing her best to decipher the now more complicated Book of Breathings. Our hope was she would find something in there that could help him. That, and figure out exactly how to block the king from using the Cauldron's magic without breaking it, destroying us all. 

No pressure. 

Azriel was doing his best to search for another cure. Feyre had saved my life with just a few mouthfuls of her blood, an ability I knew hailed from the Dawn Court. But reaching out to another court had its risks. When we marched into Hybern, we had not realized the king had allied with Spring. That mistake had almost gotten us killed, had gotten Feyre captured. Hell, Cassian still might not make it. 

What if Hybern had its claws in other courts as well? Not for the first time, I cursed my title as High Lord of the Night Court, knowing it placed a target on, not only my back, but all the members of my court. I would not allow another member of my court to die because of me. 


	3. A Court of Fire and Shadows: Chapter 3

Feyre

When I awoke the next morning, the manor was quiet. There was a knock at the door and I braced myself until I saw it was only Reila walking in.  
She curtsied, clutching her stiff brown skirt in her hands. 

“Here to assist you, milady.”

I ached to talk to her, but not knowing her allegiance made it dangerous. Still, maybe there was a way to feel her out. Reila began tenderly brushing through my hair. 

“How long have you been at Spring Court, Reila?”

She paused. “I’ve always been at Spring Court, milady,” she shot me a sad smile. “We’ve actually met a few times. I was here for your…wedding.” 

My face warmed. 

“It’s alright, milady. I’ve been trained to be invisible, I would not have thought you would’ve remembered me.”

Had I truly been so out of my mind during that time that I had never noticed Reila? There were so many things I had missed back then. “I’m sorry, Reila. I was not myself.”

She looked at me, then pointedly at the window. “It’s a good thing to have you back, Lady, away from that awful court’s claws.”

Was my room not secure? Were we being watched?

I nodded, unwilling to continue speaking. 

Reila finished assembling my hair and helped me dress, lacing up the back of a billowing pale yellow gown. 

I clasped her hand before she left. “Thank you for your help.”

“It is my duty and my pleasure, milady.”

 

I had just left my room when I noticed Lucian and Tamlin geared up and leaving. 

“Tamlin!”

He grinned. “Feyre.” He pressed a kiss against my lips as I reached him. 

“Are you going somewhere?”

Lucian practically rolled his eyes as he exited. 

“Yes, shouldn’t you be resting?”

I squelched the urge to grit my teeth at Tamlin. “You said I could be a part of things now, Tam.”

“Yes and you will, but you shouldn’t strain yourself. Yesterday you thought I was Rhysand,” he couldn’t quite mask his hatred at his name.

Bastard. Maybe I’ll just pluck all the answers from your head myself.

I smiled, keeping the mental claws at bay. “You’re right, Tamlin. I’ll stay here and rest.”

“Well, actually I thought maybe you and Ianthe could…make up?”

I was going to kill him. Though this could be the perfect opportunity to see where Ianthe stood.  
I nodded. 

“Good, she’ll be here in an hour to see you.”

“Thank you, Tamlin.” 

I watched as he and Lucian mounted their horses and rode away. 

 

Ianthe arrived only a few minutes after they’d left, like a spider lying in wait. So much for an hour. She was dressed in a smoky black form-fitting dress that glittered as she sauntered up to me. She paused a few feet before reaching me and clasped her hands together and kneeled. Her long hair raked the ground.

“Thank you for meeting with me, Feyre. I’m here to beg your forgiveness. You were my closest friend here and I let you down. The King of Hybern made me believe I’d be helping you in seeking your sisters out. I didn’t know what he had planned. I can only hope you find it in your heart to forgive me.”

She glanced at me through her veil of thick hair, gauging my reaction. 

Lying snake, I don’t forgive you and my sisters and I will enjoy making you pay for what you’ve done. 

“Ianthe,” I said, making my voice soft. “What happened with the king…my sisters will learn to live with their transformation as I have. I only hope to find them before it’s too late.” I swiped at the corner of my eye, pretending I had tears to shed.

She rose stiffly from the ground, nodding. A light frown marred her beautiful face. I wished I could claw her face off. 

“Of course, Feyre. We will find your sisters and bring them back home.” She smiled, reaching for me and pulled me into a brief hug. “I’m glad you’re back where you belong.”

I could only smile back weakly.

Ianthe patted my hand. “Yes, I know, the wedding debacle. I remember my error, you know.”

I simply stared blankly at her. 

“The red flowers. You asked for no red and I accidentally let some slip through.”

Likely on purpose, knowing it would rattle me. I almost scoffed. 

“Don’t worry, Feyre. That won’t happen this time around.”

Gods. “This time?”

“Yes, well, Tamlin said you’d be having a much more private ceremony this time. Something simple.”

“I—yes.” 

She flashed a serpentine grin. 

“Oh, Feyre, this is finally happening. The gods have truly blessed this union. I’ll begin the preparations for the wedding at my temple. I’ll need a few days.”

A few days?!

“And your new ring!” She pulled my hand to inspect the ring Tamlin had given me. Again, I had the overwhelming urge to melt it and had to calm the magic that responded in my hand. Ianthe sighed deeply.

I had to say something. “Thank you, Ianthe. You have no idea what your help means to me.”

“The three of us will do such great things together, Feyre. I can feel it.”

With that, she bid me farewell and said she’d see me for the wedding ceremony.


	4. Chapter 4

Nesta

I should have known better. Should have realized that the broken down village shack was not the lowest point for my family. Even after we’d lost everything and our worthless father failed to provide for us, I never imagined this is where my life would lead. Fae. We were Fae. It was a joke. I couldn’t help but bark out a laugh, though it must have seemed to Elain I was finally cracking. 

We’d been holed up for days in this cursed mountain waiting for Cauldron knew what. Elain and I had barely spoken. She remained on the window sill, looking outside and occasionally sighing. I, on the other hand, was going stir crazy. This cabin was covered in Feyre’s paintwork; lovingly crafted images of her friends and her lover, that Rhysand. But none of her sisters. None of Elain or I. I was drowning in a rage I hardly knew what to do with. 

“It’s guilt,” Elain said, startling me. We hadn’t spoken in days. “That’s why you’re so angry. That’s why…” She glanced down at her feet, color blooming on her pale cheeks. 

It was why she had been near catatonic since we’d been turned. 

She continued, “Feyre is once again saving our asses and we’re here doing, what? Hiding? We’re comfortable.” I flinched, but sat down next to her as she swiped a tear away. “We can’t let her go on alone anymore, Nesta.”

“Since when are you the level-headed one?”

Elain’s lips quirked up. “One of us has to be. We should call Mor. She was…nice.” 

One of Feyre’s friends, a woman named Mor, had suggested we begin training. I had nearly blasted her out of the cabin in a fit of boiling anger and self-hatred. She hadn’t suggested training since, only stopping by once a day to check if we were still alive. 

I wondered if our father even knew we were all missing, if he’d even care. But for the first time in days, it didn’t matter. Elain looked hopeful. No, she looked determined. We’d been thrust into this world we had hated and feared for so long, but it was hardly the first time we’d been thrust into a new reality. Forced into poverty after living in wealth for so long, Elain and I had failed Feyre. Maybe this time things could be different.

 

Feyre

The next few days had passed in a blur. The incident in the meadow might have successfully paused any expected physical interactions with Tamlin, but it had also stalled any advancing my mission. 

Whenever I asked Tamlin about attending a meeting, he simply told me to rest and that I could start attending meetings once I was feeling myself again. Maybe he wasn’t as clueless as I’d thought. 

Lucian was another ordeal altogether. He scowled at me whenever he thought Tamlin wouldn’t notice and spent the rest of his time actively avoiding me. Although I tried not to admit it, I wanted him to change his mind. Things would have been easier to deal with if I had at least one ally in Spring to rely on. 

Shut out from meetings and forced to enjoy my own delightful company, I decided to snoop around the manor. I still hadn’t seen Alis and I knew bringing her up outright might make Tamlin suspicious, so I kept the questions to myself. 

I waited until Tamlin had left the manor, attending to another of his “court matters.” After seeing him off, I cheerfully walked to my painting room, closing the door. Should anyone be watching me, they would believe I’d been painting. Months ago, I would have spent hours painting in the secluded room and no one would have bothered with me. I hoped today would be the same. 

It was strange being in what had been my sanctuary not too long ago. The paintings I’d created here seemed to lack the vibrancy of my work on the cabin in the mountains. Had Tamlin truly not noticed the way I had withered or had he just not cared? Shaking those thoughts away, I focused on letting darkness and shadows envelop me, rejoicing as I became invisible to the world. This had never been easy for me to do.  
I slipped silently through the walls of the manor until I at last arrived inside Tamlin’s office. I’d never been allowed in during the months I’d lived here and I had never thought to question why. Just another way he had kept me in the dark.

His office was as luxurious as the rest of the manor, decked out in deep plum and golden accents. The two large windows were closed, curtains halfway drawn. An ornate fireplace with a carved scrolling mantel took up an entire wall, though it was unlit and likely decorative what with the mild weather of Spring. A large cherry wood desk dominated the center of the room, though the magnificent wood was covered with papers piled haphazardly across its surface. There was only one chair in the room, as though this were not a place for entertaining guests.

I would find something worthwhile in here. I had until sundown to search before he returned from whatever he’d gone out to accomplish. The small bookcase leaning against one wall yielded nothing of interest. I began shuffling through the mass amounts of papers strewn over his desk. Gods, he was messy. 

Imported goods receipts, polite correspondence with other lords, all useless. I was getting impatient, very nearly upending the desk in frustration, when I came across an unwrapped box. 

I recognized the smooth black container. I’d received a similar box last month after stealing what was arguably the most important artifact from the Summer Court: the Book of Breathings. I knew before I opened the box that it contained a blood ruby, indicating a deep offense had been committed by Tamlin and marking him as an enemy of the Summer Court. Beside the box was a letter with light scrawling writing. It was from Tarquin, High Lord of the Summer court. 

In the letter, Tarquin denied Tamlin any support for his upcoming war with the King of Hybern, calling him a fool for having bargained with a demon king. Tarquin had severed ties with the Spring court and declared that crossing into his lands would be an act of war. He also wrote, and this was hard to read, that he hoped Tamlin would come to his senses and let me go. Tarquin, who had once told me I would be easy to love, who I still felt guilt over having betrayed. Maybe he understood I had only done so to stop the king. 

I read and re-read the letter, committing it to memory. Once, Tarquin had wanted an ally of the Night Court. Maybe if I could get this information to Rhysand, he could get through to Tarquin. One less High Lord on the side of Hybern. I placed the scattered letters around the box, obscuring it again.

I had just turned to leave the room when I spotted a crumpled letter near the fireplace, as though it had been tossed to be burned. 

I picked it up and nearly dropped it. This was a letter from Alis’ nephews to Tamlin, pleading on her behalf. Alis had been charged with treason and was imprisoned, awaiting her trial. 

I heard the door snick shut too late. I must have dropped the illusion of night and shadows, because Tamlin stared back at me from the doorway.


	5. Chapter 5

Feyre 

Tamlin was home and I was in his office. The one place in the manor I had no reason to be. I looked out the window, seeing the dark sky a little too late. It was way past sundown. 

His eyes narrowed as he saw the half charred paper in my hands, his own hands balling into fists. 

Yet he remained silent. Waiting for me to dig my own grave no doubt. 

What could I say? I’d been caught soot-handed. 

“Tamlin—”

“What. Are. You. Doing.” He stepped toward me and I backed up a step. He growled at the movement.

No way to face this, but head on. “What did you do to Alis?”

“I…what?”

“This paper says Alis has been imprisoned. Why?”

“Feyre, you shouldn’t be—”

“—answer the question, Tamlin.”

He brought his hand to his face, palm pressing down over his eyes. “You ask me why I imprisoned the servant I hold responsible for losing you? She could have alerted me you’d been taken. Do you know how long it was before she told me you were missing? Do you truly not understand why that kind of insubordination is dangerous at my court?” 

“Where is she?”

“Where—” His eyes gleamed with rage, his claws threatened to slip out, and he shook with the effort to remain prone. 

“She was my friend, Tamlin!”

“She let that Night Court whore waltz in here and take you!”

I froze, my arms coating with frost even as the fire in my hands turned the letter to ashes. I was gasping, trying to regain control, but I felt my control slipping as rage roiled through me. 

“Feyre, calm down!” 

The windows flew open blasting the cold night air inside, tossing the letters, the books, and even the smaller furniture across the room. 

The fear in Tamlin’s eyes mirrored my own as I clenched my arms together. Pain, I was in pain. Too much magic was being released at once and I had no idea how to control it all. I had practiced honing my abilities one at a time, but what I felt now was a whirlwind of combined magic. Magic that now savored its utter release. 

The curtains began to tear as if invisible shadow claws raked across them. I could taste Tamlin’s concern and fear as I panted through the agonizing magic tearing through me. 

A flicker of sound flitted through me, louder than the magic that raged. Not just a sound, I realized, but a song. A familiar song of comforting darkness and a sharp yank from my bond. Rhysand. 

I held onto the song even as it faded and I watched the ice and fire fade from my arms, the magical wind die down, the shadow claws retract.

“Feyre…” Tamlin was on his knees in front of me, hands held out towards mine. 

But I couldn’t face him, even if leaving things like this were dangerous. I shook my head, tears stinging in my eyes.

“Don’t follow me.”

I hurried down the hallway, ignoring the signs of my violent magical outburst—papers still floating down the hall, small flames licking at a curtain, frost leeching up the door to his office. New claw marks raked down the walls of the hallway. 

At least no one had been hurt. No one, but me. 

I walked, arms crossed, until I reached my painting room and locked myself inside.

______________________________________________________________________________________________

Amren

It would have been unkind to hit Rhys with an “I-told-you-so,” no matter how deserved. I held my tongue, watching the others run plan after plan by Rhys, all of which he rejected. They didn’t understand. We wouldn’t be making a move until Feyre asked us to. She was even more stubborn than Rhys. And brave. 

It had been a long night at the House of Wind. We had all been drained after a frustrating day. Cassian was still bedridden. Feyre’s sisters had been holding a sort of secretive court upstairs with Mor, although it was obvious they were finally training. Azriel had been updating Rhys on various Illyrian scout reports, though I couldn’t see how knowing just how ominous Hybern’s forces were becoming would be helpful. Talk about a drop in moral. I’d been pouring over the Book of Breathings and feeling more cross-eyed by the hour. It had been so long since I’d even thought of this language, let alone read it…

I’d felt the ripple of magic at the same moment it had cut through Rhysand’s mating bond. The others had been confused when Rhys suddenly fell, smacking onto the floor. Feyre was spasming magic so violently I’d felt the ancient core in me responding. Mor, Azriel, and Elain (Nesta was still with Cassian) had only just looked over when I’d rushed to his side. Not to comfort, but to help Feyre. There was no doubt the powerful wave of magic was radiating from Spring. 

Rhysand had been so pale, his pupils fully dilated, fists clenching and unclenching so quickly it was jarring. 

“Is she hurt?”

I had to shake him to get his attention. 

“RHYSAND!’

“No…she’s so angry.” He had choked out. 

“Send her music, send her something to get her under control,” I had gripped his chin, hard, leaving my fingers imprinted. “Now, Rhysand, help her get control.”

It all happened within a few minutes. I felt the magic pulse, then retract. Felt it swirl and calm, back under her control. 

“What. The. Fuck.” Elain had covered her mouth, rushing out to the balcony to vomit loudly. Nesta came out of Cassian’s room and gave us all a dirty look before going out to tend to her sister. 

I stepped away from Rhysand to let Mor comfort him as only she knew how. We’d all held our breath waiting for Rhysand to gauge Feyre’s mood and give us instructions. Last night, we almost threw Feyre’s plan aside and rushed into the rescue. Mor had certainly taken a lot of convincing to back down once Rhys told us Feyre was ok. 

The Book of Breathings still lay abandoned where I’d left it. Feyre might be risking everything by infiltrating Spring, but I had my role to play in this war, too. I had to decipher the last few chapters. Maybe then we could get Feyre out. Though lately I’d had the sinking feeling these pages would not be the salvation everyone made this book out to be. No, I had the feeling our troubles were only beginning. 

______________________________________________________________________________________________

Feyre

I woke up to the smell of fresh painted canvas. Unable to sleep last night, I’d spent the rest of the night painting to distract myself from the horror of what I’d almost done. Now in the morning, I had to face my actions yesterday. 

I had completely lost it when I learned Alis had been imprisoned and the way Tamlin had spoken about Mor, as if he knew anything about the Night Court. Gods only knew if my outburst had caused me to fail my mission. I’d almost attacked Tamlin! Sure, he’d deserved it, but not if the cost would be letting Hybern win. I felt a strong rush of understanding flitting through the bond, but it only racked me further with guilt. If it hadn’t been for Rhys once again sending me the lilting music from the Court of Dreams, things could have gone much worse.

I looked at the paintings I’d created during the night: my sisters, Elain and Nesta before they’d been turned in the Cauldron. Mor laughing as she danced with Azriel and Cassian at Starfall. Alis and her two boys. Amren laying on a distant beach, her eyes excited. Even Tarquin, standing in the shadow of his boat. A pair of violet eyes. The paintings were my guilt personified. 

I had failed them all by losing control last night and, no matter the cost, I couldn’t allow that to happen again. As I’d painted, I had come up with a laundry list to repair last night’s damage. 

First, I had to apologize to Tamlin. In order for my mission to succeed, Tamlin had to trust me. He wouldn’t well let me waltz around the manor or attend any meetings if he thought I was a breath away from snapping. I’d seen the fear in his eyes, tasted it, and knew I had repair that or the mission would collapse. Maybe I could convince him to release Alis or at least find out where she was being held. 

Next, I had to find a way to get the information I’d learned to Rhysand. The bond was still too weak for words, though it felt stronger than before. I had come up with a way around that, but it would require me sneaking into Tamlin’s office again. So this would have to wait until I gained at least some of his trust back. 

Lastly, but most importantly, I had to get a handle on my magic. Rhysand had warned me I could lose control if I didn’t periodically find ways to release my magic. I’d been so preoccupied with playing the demure Spring Lady that I hadn’t been practicing or releasing bits of my magic to remain in control. I needed to master my magic, but also find an outlet. I didn’t want a repeat of last night’s events. 

A quick peek outside the painting room door told me I was the only one awake in the manor, the servants had not begun the workday. I had to admit I was relieved to not have to face Tamlin just yet. 

Although I itched to try sneaking into Tamlin’s office again, I couldn’t do so without knowing if he had warded it against me. I had to wait for him to trust me again. 

So the first order of business would be to find somewhere I could practice my magic. There was no sense in searching for that in the manor. I could never practice my magic here without detection. I would have to go somewhere outside. 

I closed the door to the painting room again, locking it this time. A few days ago, I had stored some slacks and a basic tunic I’d borrowed from a line of freshly washed clothes I’d come across. I pulled those on now, feeling a bit more like myself and focused on winnowing to the forest.


	6. Chapter 6

Feyre

I felt the world begin to fold for me and I stepped through the collapsing fabric, landing swiftly in a small copse of trees. I was alone, save for some chippering birds. No one would find me here or feel my magic release as I practiced. 

I decided to start with the Illyrian training exercises Cassian had shown me, working my body back into the rhythm. Cassian would’ve been cross had he known I’d stopped practicing, mission or no. I imagined his gloved hands in front of me as I punched through the air, whirling left and right. My body felt sore after about an hour of this, sweat rolling off me as I puffed out the cool misty air.

I decided that was enough physical exercise for now, no sense in pushing myself too hard. It was time for the next workout. I rolled out my shoulders and thought back to last night’s events. I had mastered working with single abilities, but I wanted to improve at wielding more than one ability at a time. I would start with two. 

I slowly, care fully engulfed my right palm in fire, not allowing the fire to burn me. The flames shot out and I willed them lower, keeping them just above my skin. When I felt the fire was steady, I began conjuring the frost. 

I felt the sidling whisper of ice as it crept down my shoulder blade towards my hand. The ice was heavy and I had to shift my stance before continuing. I focused on pulling the ice towards the fire, teeth chattering even as sweat dripped down my face. 

Slowly, so slowly, I inched the ice forward to encase the fire. I regenerated the ice even as it melted, turning to steam as it hit leaping flames. Finally, the fire was steady, the ice no longer melting. I let out a breathy chuckle, feeling electric. I’d done it! There was my hand, wrapped in smoldering fire and encased in ice. Both elements holding steady. I held the magic for a few minutes, straining to keep the ice and fire alive. 

I released the magic, feeling the threads floating away and I felt drained, but in a good way. The sun seemed to beam down at me as I winnowed back to my painting room. 

__________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Lucian was waiting for me outside my painting room. 

“Funny how there are no new paintings even though you’ve been painting all morning.”

My lips twitched. “Good morning to you, too, Lucian.”

He scowled and I bared my teeth at him. We walked down to breakfast, his arm guiding me down the hall. He inhaled and I could tell just how hard it was for him to release his twang of anger. 

“Tell me about Elain.”

I scoffed and his hand around my arm tightened. I glanced up at him about to throw out a nasty comment when I noticed the dark rings under his eyes. 

“Have you been sleeping, Lucian?”

He looked away, pulling his arm from mine. 

I wanted to reach out, but we had found ourselves too quickly at the door to the dining room.

Lucian stepped aside, holding the door for me to enter first. I casually stepped around the leg he held out to trip me. Nice try.  
If Tamlin noticed our tension, he didn't mention it. He simply waved for me to sit next to him, nostrils flaring. He was still angry, well so was I. A previous Feyre might’ve quaked in the face of that anger. I simply frowned right back.  
I couldn’t gloss over what he’d done to Alis. 

Lucian and Tamlin barely went through the motions of polite dinner talk. Their conversation seeming more strained than usual. Lucian hadn’t been wrong when he’d said he would have been a terrible spy. His face was wrought with turmoil that I assumed had much to do with Elain. 

Tamlin had yet to allow any formal search for Elain to begin and I felt pity for Lucian, though we both knew Elain was in no danger.  
Lucian had considered Tamlin more than just a High Lord. He had been honored to serve the man he’d thought was his friend. Lucian had bent over backwards for Tamlin and was just now starting to realize how little his High Lord regarded him. 

Tamlin turned from Lucian to face me, taking his hands from his plate. He spoke as though Lucian weren't even in the room. “I’m sorry for what happened yesterday. I swore to you things would be different, that there would be no more secrets between us. I broke that promise. I'm going to make it up to you.”

I snorted, raising a brow at him. “By letting Alis go?” 

Lucian jerked up.

“Yes.”

I must have shown the shock on my face, because Tamlin let out an impish smile. I balled my hands into fists under the table.  
“You’re my Lady, Feyre. If you think Alis isn’t a threat, I will set her free.”

I was almost too stunned to speak. “Thank you, Tam—” I whispered. 

“—however, I’m sure even you will agree she can’t be trusted to come back to Spring. I’ll arrange for Alis and her nephews to be taken back to Summer.”

So there was the catch. Alis would go free, but I’d never see her again. At least she’d be free from Spring, from Tamlin. She’d escaped Summer once, but that was during Amarantha’s reign. Tarquin would take care of Alis. Tamlin pressed my hand to his lips and beamed at me. I tried to smile back.

I turned at the sound of utensils clanging onto a plate. Lucian dabbed at his mouth with his napkin before standing up, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. “Excuse me.” 

Tamlin and I watched as he hurried from the room. Tamlin made no move to go after Lucian, his eyes narrowing to slits. He glanced at me to gauge my reaction, a challenge. So, instead of rushing after my former friend like I wanted to, I continued to eat with Tamlin in silence.


	7. Chapter 7

Feyre

After breakfast, one of Tamlin's scouts announced one of the High Lords would be coming. I didn't hold my breath for Rhysand. I tugged on the bond and felt a swaddle of love pouring through. My heart suddenly ached fiercely at being separated from Rhys for so long. We still had not been able to communicate other than with directed feelings and images. It was frustrating. 

Pulling my attention back to the room, I realized Tamlin had not asked me to leave. Apparently, I’d be attending this meeting. Finally. 

Tamlin had just conjured another two chairs when two men arrived. The first, was a scrawny man with unnervingly high cheekbones and bright eyes. Most likely an advisor, since his stance was not that of a guard or soldier. He stood behind the man who I recognized from Under the Mountain, though I hadn’t seen him since. 

Kallias, High Lord of Winter. 

He was tall, pale-skinned and clad in a metallic gray suit that looked suspiciously like armor. The light from the candles throughout the room glinted off of him, though it was nothing compared to the blindingly white crown of ice he wore atop his head. He had dressed to impress, though it was hard to say who this show was for. Kallias trained his eyes on me for an unnerving minute, then turned to Tamlin. 

“High Lord Tamlin,” he greeted, coolly.

“High Lord Kallias, it’s been some time.”

Kallias waved at the man behind him. “My advisor, Griffin.”

His advisor, a thin man with shockingly dark eyes simply inclined his head at us with a slight jerk. I realized he reminded me of the water wraiths. I shivered and it had nothing to do with room temperature. 

The men turned to me as they waited for me to sit, then sat down themselves. 

Ever the gracious host, Tamlin offered his guests a varied of food and drinks, all of which they refused. 

“Let’s get to the point, Tamlin. Winter has not yet made our decision on your proposition. Our Court suffered harshly under our former…ruler and her pet.”

I felt his piercing glare on me then and was grateful he could not shoot ice through his eyes. If looks could kill, indeed. Kallias hated Rhysand, for whatever role he’d played in the destruction of his court. He must’ve heard about my time as Rhysand’s “prisoner” and guessed I hadn’t been there against my will. If only Tamlin could see it that way. 

“We acknowledge our freedom was paid for by your Lady, but find that debt was more than paid for by her remaking.” So, Tamlin was using me as a bargaining chip for whatever scheme they were hatching? At least it hadn’t worked on Kallias. 

“Winter has much healing to do and our focus has been to rebuild our ravaged lands.”

“Lord Kallias,” Tamlin said, finally drawing Kallias’ attention from me. “You and I are on the same page as far as Rhysand is concerned. If you ally with Spring, we can combine our forces to finally bring the Night Court to its knees.” His hand had curled to a fist as he’d spoken. I could make out the claws that threatened to burst from his skin. My own hands were clenched under my legs, threatening to do the same.

Kallias looked to his silent advisor, who nodded once. “Night and Winter were once great allies, before Amarantha. But though we were all under Amarantha’s thumb, her whore did not hide how he relished in our destruction. All of our destruction.”

No, no no…

Kallias nodded, extending a hand to Tamlin. “We accept the terms of your proposal and formally declare Winter your allies. You are free to use our borders as you wish and should you require men, we will provide our best troops.”

I fought to keep my face neutral as Tamlin shook Kallias’ hand. The King of Hybern had just won himself another court for his war.

 

Rhysand

I had faith in Feyre. I had to keep telling myself that whenever I felt the overwhelming urge to barge into Spring and rescue her. It was hard to control those instincts, though I knew Feyre hardly needed rescuing. No, the sheer amount of magic she’d blasted through Spring the other night suggested the opposite. 

Still, it wasn’t only the animalistic nature of the fresh mating bond that had me wavering. I missed my darling Feyre. It was unfair how little time we’d had before things had gone to shit again. I frequently found myself back in the throne room in Hybern, in nightmares and waking moments, wondering what we could have done differently. What I could have done. I had to stop wallowing. Feyre wouldn’t find a moping mate attractive when she came home. 

It was time to get things moving on my end. Amren was almost done translating the Book of Breathings. Elain was once again training with Mor upstairs, though I couldn’t understand the need for their secrecy. Nesta was sitting with Cassian, as she’d taken to doing now every night. Only Cassian’s weak state kept me from making any sarcastic remarks.

I knew soon Feyre would find a way to contact me or the bond would heal to the point we could speak again, but I couldn’t hold out for whatever knowledge she’d gained. I had to be ready with a plan of attack. 

A low groan sounded.

It was Nesta who ran into the room just then, startling me from my thoughts. “Rhysand! He’s awake!”

I was bewildered for a minute, more so because of the tears I saw streaking down Nesta’s face. Nesta was crying?

But I forgot that and ran in to see him. 

Cassian was awake!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit short, but I didn't think would work lumped in with the the previous or next chapter. I just wanted to get things moving! I have so much more coming. Thank you all for your kind words and encouragement! Glad you are liking this fic.

Feyre

Tamlin was gone from the manor for the rest of the day. I didn’t see him when I woke the next morning, either. I tried to think up ways to contact Rhysand, but I kept thinking back to the correspondence to other Lords on Tamlin’s desk. He had to have the enchanted parchment somewhere in his office. Somehow, I had to get back in there. 

I was exiting the manor, thinking about getting some fresh air, when a messenger stopped me at the door. The letter he passed me made my heart lurch:

Dearest Feyre,

I have finished the preparations for your ceremony. Please stop in at your earliest convenience.

High Priestess Ianthe 

I was debating tearing the awful note to pieces when I realized, what better way to convince Tamlin of my trust than by swearing marriage vows to him? I almost retched at the thought and tugged on my bond, on Rhys, for support. I had realized by walking into Spring that this might be an inevitability, but even knowing how the night would end, I wondered if some lines shouldn't be crossed. 

But Hybern. There were no limits to what I would do to protect Rhys and our court, my sisters, the other courts. I had to see this all through and hope to find some information that made it all worthwhile, hope that Rhys would forgive me. 

I called Reila to my room and asked her to help me dress. Memories clashed through me; my first failed attempt at marrying Tamlin when I'd been all but forced into a garish dress; the elegant, but simple black gown I'd worn with Rhys when I'd been sworn in as High Lady. Reila pulled out rose dress that was so simple it was almost plain. No ruffles, no poofs, no brow-raising slits. I might have been grateful had I not been preparing for what felt like a funeral. 

Reila brushed my hair, leaving it loose and flowing. It had grown so long it was near my mid-back. She attached a small pearled diadem, making me appear almost innocent. She waited for my silent tears to stop and then began applying light cosmetics. When she was done, she hugged me and left the room without a word. 

A loud neigh by the manor stables alerted me of Tamlin's arrival. I made my way downstairs, forcing myself to take step after step and arranging my face into that of a blushing bride.

I found my betrothed was dressed and waiting outside. 

"Let's go get married," he smiled, stroking his finger delicately over my ring. My heart lurched with the wrongness of the moment, but I kept the smile plastered on my face. Tamlin was the picture of a perfect prince and I ached knowing I'd gone to the end of the earth to fight for him. And he hadn't fought for me. Tamlin had let himself be consumed by his fears, by that utter powerlessness, and I would have drowned under what he thought was love. 

I felt sick as he mounted the white horse and pulled me up behind him, galloping towards a small chapel in the distance. Wanting so badly to make a run for it, but knowing that couldn't and wouldn't happen today.I wanted to kick and scream the way I hadn't in that three-tiered-cake of a dress. 

No way out. There’s no way out of this one. 

No Rhysand to come and whisk me away before the vows were said. I felt a tremor of distress through the bond. 

I took a deep breath, which I nearly choked on when I saw who waited for us by the chapel doorway.

Ianthe. 

Ianthe dressed in a demure pastel green colored robe, such a contrast to that revealing spiderweb dress the other day. She paused by the chapel, hands clasped in mock excitement. Tamlin and I dismounted a few yards away and I had to clasp my own hands to stop them from shaking.

Tamlin took my face in his hands, bringing his own face closer to mine. I closed my eyes to blot it out as he pressed a sloppy peck on my lips.

Ianthe's focus was on me as we approached. Her gaze was almost as hungry as Tamlin's. For whatever reason, Ianthe had always wanted this wedding to happen. I'd always thought it was her way of assuring I was tied to the Spring Court and Tamlin, but maybe there had been more to it.

As we reached the door to the chapel, Ianthe pulled me into a stiff, cold hug. Only Tamlin was daft enough to believe our charade. Had he not been here, Ianthe and I might have finally come to blows.

He beamed at us. 

Tamlin squeezed my hand. “Feyre, Ianthe has a plan for getting your sisters back. But I don’t think tonight is the night to discuss it.”

Ianthe clasped one hand in Tamlin’s, the other in mine. “Let us go finish what was set in motion months ago, my High Lord, my Lady.” Lady, not High Lady. My smile at her was genuine then. If only she knew. 

The three of us made our way inside the chilly temple, hands entwined with Ianthe between Tamlin and I. 

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Feyre

Married. We were married. It didn’t matter that the mate bond trumped marriage. The thought of being tied to Tamlin in any capacity.

I hurtled to the bathing room as I vomited yet again. 

The vomiting had started as soon as Tamlin and I had returned from the chapel to his bedroom in the manor. Faced with consummating the marriage, I’d found myself so nauseous I had vomited all over Tamlin’s suit. 

“Some kind of flu,” he’d said, clearly disgusted, and had rushed off to find me some medicine. No matter that no medicine would be able to take this edge off. How had Rhysand been Amarantha’s lover for so long? How did he stand it and come out of it still such a good man? 

Rhys, I don’t know if I’m as strong as you. 

He must have felt my inner turmoil, because flickering of images soon came through bond. Me fighting the Middengard Wyrm, tossing the bone at Amarantha. Me climbing out of the Weaver’s chimney. Me with my water wolves fighting off the King’s attack. 

The images grew dimmer, as though it was a strain to send so much through the bond. I found myself breathing easier and picked myself off the floor. 

Thank you, Rhys. Silence. 

Tamlin was, thankfully, still gone by the time I emerged from the bathing room. I slept in my painting room that night. 

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Mor  
Rhysand was passed out. He and Cassian had spent the day drinking. Rhysand had started receiving images through the mating bond and had been ecstatic until he saw what’d happened today. Feyre had gotten married to Tamlin. Ianthe had conducted the ceremony. 

“I did say this was my plan for their wedding day…”

His eyes had been red-rimmed, not only from the alcohol, but from bawling on and off throughout the day. Well, Feyre sure wasn’t taking any easy shortcuts. I just hoped whatever she accomplished would be worth it. I hadn't told the others what Feyre had done, giving Rhys space to feel what he needed to tonight.

I left my cousin splayed out on the floor and went in to see Cassian. Nesta had not visited tonight when she’d heard the boys had been drinking, though she had come to visit almost every night. Today’s drinking fest had been as much for Rhysand as it had been for him. 

Cassian’s wings were still bound and healing incredibly slowly. His face was drawn, his skin glimmered with sweat when I stepped into his room. He was in pain most of the time, though he hadn’t told the others. Nesta had guessed as much, too. Cassian was not one to show weakness, or rather he did not want to be pitied. 

“Did you have fun today?”

Cassian’s mouth quirked up on one side. “For a while.”

“Cass…”

He looked away from me then, his mouth twisting downwards into a frown. “Please, don’t.”

“Maybe we could contact the Dawn Court. I could go. We could try their blood…”

“Stop, Mor,” he interrupted, eyes blazing. “I don’t want your false hope. You damn well know Eos wouldn’t give up his precious blood to save a bastard born Illyrian soldier.”

My pleading turned to anger then. “You don’t know that, you don’t even want us to try.”

“Mor,” he paused and his gaze softened. “You’ve been a fighter since the day I met you. Since the day you asked me and altered your future.” I couldn’t help the heat that colored my face.

"Don't you dare say your goodbyes, Cas."

“But,” he continued, ignoring me. “Sometimes you can’t win the war. Sometimes all you can do is help win a battle so your friends can live.” One of his wings spasmed and he flinched. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted. If I lose my wings, if I die for having saved my friends I would be ok with that.”

I sagged, shaking my head no. 

"No." I turned toward the echo. Nesta was at the door, a blazing cup of tea in her hands. "That's not what being a warrior is. A warrior doesn't abandon his friends after he's won one battle. If you could count getting your wings shredded and passing out a win. Are you a warrior or a martyr?"

Cassian flinched. 

"So you think your friends are worth fighting for, but it's not worth it to fight for yourself? Mor said we haven't tried everything, so be a damn warrior and fight."

Nesta strode into the room and thrust the mug at him, crossing her arms and glaring. Suddenly the room felt too small for the three of us, so I got up to leave. I heard Cassian’s gag as he sipped at the tea. 

And heard, rather than saw, Nesta’s wicked smile as she said, “That’s a classic Archeron hangover remedy. Hope you enjoy.”

Cassian called out to me before I closed the door. “Tell Rhysand we’ll try.”


	9. Chapter 9

Feyre  
That morning, I could hear the servants chattering in the halls. The morning was well into motion. I peeked out of the doorway again, looking for any signs of Tamlin, but heard only the servants throughout the manor. 

I couldn’t well stay locked in the painting room forever. At the very least, I had to bathe and get changed. I’d slipped out of the room, locking the door, and was tiptoeing up the staircase to my bedroom when I heard voices coming from the dining hall. 

I glanced around and found no one watching me. I covered myself in darkness, making myself invisible so I could creep closer towards the door. A sliver of the door remained open and I peeked through the crack to see into the room. 

Tamlin was there, but surprisingly not at the head of the table; something I knew would have incensed him, had it not been for the King of Hybern seated at the revered spot. 

The King. Gods. 

What was so important for the king to have come to the Spring Court himself? I felt pity at Lucian, who looked like he would have rather melted into his chair than to be at this meeting. 

“I’ve given you plenty of time, Lord Tamlin, and I am losing patience.” I couldn’t help the chills that rolled down my back at his voice, remembering his serpentine smile as he’d pointed at me in his throne room and destroyed the bargain between me and Rhys. I could still feel the shattering pain like a phantom limb. 

“If you do not deliver your promises, I will have to take matters into my own hands.” He waved sharply at Tamlin before he could speak. “Now that I know the Book of Breathings is whole, thanks to your lovely Lady, I want it in my hands. The Book and Cauldron should never have been separated. If you do not convince Lord Tarquin to help you track it down, I will be forced to use Feyre track it down for me.” He smiled again, his pointed teeth little more than yellowing fangs. “After all, she is the one who put the Book together, she might be more adept to find the Book than Tarquin.”

Tamlin stood, but said nothing. Instead, slamming his fist down onto the table and scattering food from his untouched plate.

“No? I’m curious, Lord Tamlin, did you or did you not promise me her services in exchange for breaking the bond?”

Tamlin sank back down into his chair. “I—”

“Two weeks, Tamlin,” the king drawled. “I have waited centuries for this game to come to a close. I do not want to spill Summer blood if I don’t have to. They are such a darling little court, aren’t they, Jurien?”

Jurien?

I whirled around just as Jurien’s hand gripped the back of my neck, pulling me towards him. I could feel his hot breath against my ear as he leaned down to whisper, “Your little parlor tricks don’t work on me, bitch. Didn’t you hear curiosity killed the cat?” He chuckled and released his grip on me. “Run along now, kitty cat. We’ll play later.”

I stepped away from him, checking to make sure I was still encased in darkness. Invisible to all except, it seemed, Jurien. I felt his stare lingering as I rushed up the stairs. 

I could only hope he wouldn’t tell the king about my eavesdropping. 

Shit. He had me and he knew it. I could still see his dark grin, feel the touch of his breath on my skin as I closed my bedroom door and locked it.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________

Feyre  
I watched as the king and Jurien left the manor. It seemed Jurien had kept our side conversation to himself. I knew I would have to deal with him later. Hopefully I’d be long gone before that day came. 

I’d had time to quickly bathe and change into my nightwear before I heard a knock at the door. 

“Feyre, it’s me.” Tamlin. 

My face was still grave as I let him inside. 

He frowned, “I know you were at the meeting. Your scent was lingering by the door.”  
I braced myself, but he held up his hand and said, “Let me finish.”

I nodded, go on.

He hung his head and I squelched the urge to roll my eyes. 

He looked up at me and paused, seemed to gather himself then said, “I won’t let the king use you.”

I scoffed. “You can’t refuse a command from the king, not when you already agreed to it.”

Tamlin had the gall to flinch. “You don’t understand what he’s asking. He didn’t explain to me how this would work. I just wanted you back…”

“Tamlin, please, let’s not get into this now.”

He nodded, his face rumpled in grief. It was frustrating to see. As if he’d be the one losing anything should the king deign to wield me for whatever horrors he chose. 

I had to take advantage. There would be no convincing Tarquin to help locate the Book. It was just a matter of time before the king stopped indulging Tamlin and demanded my compliance. This way, I might be able to stall the search for the Book and figure out Hybern's plan.

“Tamlin, he wasn’t wrong. I’ve been by the Book. Maybe I can help you get it for him.”

He looked at me, considering. 

I inched closer to him and placed my palm on his chest, a shameless tactic. “Please, Tam. Let me help you.”

He picked up my right hand silently. If only he could see through the glamour to the tattoo that marked me as High Lady of the Night Court. I almost smiled, someday I would show him just who he’d been dealing with. 

“Do you trust me, Tam?”

He brought his lips to my hand and placed a peck in my palm. “Of course, I do, Feyre.”

“Then let’s work together.”

"You're right, love. Tarquin has been...difficult and isn't responding to my summons. If I can give the king the book, he might be satisfied enough to leave you alone. Tomorrow we will talk strategies." He glanced down at me. At the sheer nightgown I had on and I silently cursed myself at having reached for the first piece of clothing I'd come across. "For now..."

Tamlin's eyes were molten emerald as he pulled his hand from mine. He gently stroked my bare shoulders before pulling the thin straps of my nightgown down. His hand at my waist began moving down towards the hem, bunching the fabric as he went. My skin crawled, but I kept my face blank, impassive even as my heart thudded violently. 

I didn't want to risk my mental claws again, not when that had failed so spectacularly last time. Tamlin couldn't know that I plotted against him. Whatever static lingered from my bond to Rhys, I shut all out. I did not want him to feel what was about to happen. 

Tamlin grazed his teeth along my earlobe and I shuddered with disgust, playing it off as desire. 

He kissed along my jaw and my nostrils flared, his hands continuing their roaming. Tamlin began kissing along my collarbone, then lower, growling as my claws came out to hold onto his shoulders. 

“My little minx,” he chuckled. His own claws came out and he prepared to tear my nightgown apart when a knock came from the door. Cauldron save me. The Court of Interruptions, it should have been called. He cursed. 

Tamlin’s eyes narrowed to slits as he strode to the doorway. He waited to open the door until I’d pulled my nightgown on properly.

The skittering servant, Reila stood in the doorway. She glanced at me once, terrified, then bowed to Tamlin as she said, “Lord Tamlin, word has been sent from our Eastern border. Your presence is requested immediately.”

Once, I would have quaked to be the subject of the glare Tamlin shot her way. Reila still bowed, eyes averted, but remaining strong. Good girl. 

“Tell my men I will be there shortly.” A nod and she was on her way. I almost sighed with relief. 

“To be continued,” Tamlin drawled. He shut the door a bit too hard as he left the manor, the harshness making me jump.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________

Feyre  
I knew it was a matter of time before Tamlin would return to claim me. There were only so many excuses I could give him without making him suspicious. I had lucked out so far, but I knew that luck would soon run out. 

It was this thought that had me summoning the shroud of darkness and in Tamlin’s office again, caution be damned. I did not look through his papers this time, but searched for a bit of blank parchment paper, which I found in one of the large drawers of his desk. I took a pen as well, hoping he wouldn’t notice and rushed back to my room. 

Rhysand had always been the one sending me the magic letters and, though I wasn't sure if it would work, I had to try. The bond was still too weak to communicate with words. 

I sat down on the bed, my hand scrambling quickly to get the message out. 

*Rhys, I wrote. I don’t have much time. Tarquin and his court are in danger. They’ve marked Spring as their enemies. The king wants the Book and thinks Tarquin can help locate it.*

I left out the part about Hybern using me to find the Book should Tamlin fail to convince Tarquin to ally with him. As well as my bright idea to volunteer for the task. 

*The king gave Tamlin two weeks to turn Summer to his side. Tell him about the Court of Dreams. He could still be our ally.*

*Tamlin has Alis.* 

The writing began to fade as I sent it, hopefully, to Rhysand. I added, *I miss you.*

I waited, watching the pen and paper vanish. Wondering how long it would be before I heard from—

The paper reappeared, the pen a second later. I scrambled to read it. 

*I would’ve paid to have seen Tamlin’s face when he got that Blood Ruby.*

I sagged with relief. Feeling that same relief mixed with joy mirrored through my bond. 

*Rhys, I miss you so much.*

*I miss you, too, darling. Amren and Mor nearly bit my head off when I told them your plan to infiltrate Spring.* 

I snorted. *Tell them I miss them, too. I want to attend a meeting before I go back, try to find out where the other High Lords stand with the king. I need to make sure Alis is freed.*

I felt him soothing me through the bond. *We’ll be together soon, darling. This is far too much time apart as it is.*

Indeed it was. We had only just sealed the mating bond when the mess with the King of Hybern had started. I sent down a thread of what I would do to him once this mission ended and reached down for the paper only to have it vanish and reappear. 

*You’re a wicked thing, aren’t you? Sending me such thoughts when you know I can’t act on them.* 

I smiled. * Just giving you a taste of what’s to come.* 

*The longer you’re away, the more plans I get to make on where to take you next. We never did go down to that shop. You know, the one with the little lacy things,…*

My cheeks flushed. I started to write my reply, when I felt footsteps pounding up the stairs. *Later.* 

I scorched the pen and paper, diving under the covers and closing my eyes, forcing my breath to remain deep and steady.

Tamlin opened the door and I heard as he padded next to the bed. He stood over me for a minute, watching me sleep. He leaned down and brushed his nose along my hair, heartily breathing in my scent. 

I felt the shudder that wracked his body before he left the room, closing the door lightly. 

That was a close one. Silence. 

I cursed as I realized I’d lost my only way to communicate with Rhysand and didn’t know how long it would be before I could sneak into Tamlin’s office again.


	10. Chapter 10

Feyre

"Let's go, Feyre. I don't plan on spending all night waiting for you to decide."

I was standing in the throne room in front of three familiar Fae. I knew their faces like I knew my own, having heard their final cries for months as I was wracked with nightmare after nightmare.

Not tonight…

I watched Tamlin, his face impassive as he sat on his throne next to Amarantha's. And I begged him not to make me do this, "Tamlin, please."

His voice joined Amarantha's then as they urged me forward. Arms shaking, I turned to the first Fae mechanically and struck the knife into his chest quickly, watching as the blood pooled from him onto the ornate floor. Instead of cries, I heard dark laughter coming from the audience. Their excitement palpable, waiting for my next kill.

"Next."

Again, I was powerless to stop myself as I shoved the bloody knife into the next Fae's chest. Her beautiful eyes dulling, face blank as she thudded to the ground before me. I screamed, tears streaming down my face. Please, forgive me.

Unable to face the final figure, I crumpled to the floor. I felt Tamlin's hand on my arm and started, having missed his descent from the throne. I looked around for the first time, noticing the people in the crowd are shadows. Shadows that seemed to be growing around us. Amarantha was still on her throne, watching us silently.

Tamlin pulled me into his arms, swiping at the streaking tears on my face.

"Tamlin, I can't—"

"Shh, honey. We'll do it together."

He held my knife hand in his as we faced the last figure. And I recoiled as I recognized my mate's face.

"Rhysand? Tamlin, NO!"

Too late to stop as we propelled the knife into Rhysand's chest. His mouth curved into an "O" position as he withered and died, his blood coiling out of him in thick spurts. It coated my dress, my hands, even my face as Tamlin turned me to face him.

"You saved me, Feyre, Thank you." I could only watch, stunned, as Tamlin then turned the knife on me, pushing the blade in my chest to the hilt, his eyes blind with rage. Blood bubbled from my lips as I fell...

I woke with a start, the blankets wrapped so tightly around me that I choked and almost burned them to cinders. Just a dream, just a dream.

I felt the crushing concern through my bond and sent back my relief. It was just a dream. It had felt so real, though, and I had the sick feeling that I couldn't play this game much longer. Like I might save my court at the expense of my own sanity.

I uncoiled myself from the blankets and walked outside, sentinels be damned. I needed some fresh air.

______________________________________________________________________________________________

Feyre

The moon was still out, the sun only just beginning to peek through in the distance. I barely remembered rushing out of the manor and finding shelter within the trees of the forest. I had stopped to catch my breath when I heard footsteps crunching behind me and turned to find Lucien trailing me.

He held his hands up. "Tamlin sent me."

Of course. I couldn't muster the energy to argue with him, so I simply kept walking.

Lucian kept up, moving to walk next to me. "He says the nightmares are back," he said, carefully. "Though I've never seen you as bad as tonight, Feyre."

What could I say? Yes, Lucian, even in my dreams your High Lord is the biggest prick in the whole…

"I'm sorry, Feyre, for not having been there for you."

And maybe it was because I'd never felt as lonely as I had then, maybe it was because it was Lucian and he was finally giving me the apology I'd wanted for so long, but I started crying.

The tears had no sooner begun when Lucian pulled me, delicately, into his arms. He held me for a long time as the sobs wrenched through me. And I cried for our lost friendship. I cried for Cassian and his wings, not knowing if there was a healer who could repair that amount of damage. I cried for my sisters, who had been turned into High Fae against their wills. I cried over the sharp unending longing I felt towards Rhys and the way I'd had to leave his side, not knowing how this charade would end.

Finally, I cried over Tamlin; at what must have broken so irrevocably to turn him into the man he'd become; at how he'd damned us all over his desire to possess me. Possess, not love.

The tears finally subsided and Lucian dropped his arms from me. We smiled sadly at each other.

"You're a mess, Lady Feyre."

"I am," I replied.

"You were right, by the way." I raised my brow at him to ask Which time? He chuckled, then sobered.

"I've been a coward. I did nothing while I watched you waste away and saw the sleepless circles under your eyes. When Tamlin ordered me to find you, I did so without question. A part of it was not knowing if you had truly left willingly, but there was more to it. I didn't want to face my own horror at what was happening and I thought if I went along, things would just go back to how they were. Tamlin told me you were his, that you belonged here, and I just went along.

"You have to understand, Feyre, that Tamlin has been more of a brother to me than my own family. He took me in when I had nowhere to go. We've been friends for centuries. I thought that I could have it both ways; I thought that by having you, it would save him.

"But love isn't toxic. Love doesn't seek to destroy. I don't know what it is that Tamlin thinks he feels for you, but it's not love. To ask the King of Hybern to sever your bond to Rhysand, to even have involved the king at all…I just don't know, Feyre. There's a line starting to draw and Tamlin is forcing High Lords to choose a side. I'm afraid for Tamlin and I'm afraid for Prythian."

I was silent for a long time as we trudged through the forest with no discernible direction in mind. There was nothing I could say to soothe Lucian. I couldn't promise him Tamlin would be ok, not when Tamlin was working with Hybern.

"Elain," I said, Lucian's eyes bulging. "Loves to garden. I always thought she would've loved the Spring Court; its meadows, the garden on the manor grounds. Elain was the strongest of the three Archeron sisters. She never lost sight of hope, even after my father, Nesta, and I did."

"Thank you, Feyre," he choked out, gripping my hand.

Lucian and I made our way back to the manor as the sun rose, walking hand in hand.

______________________________________________________________________________________________

Elain

Feyre had finally made contact with Rhysand. He hadn't shown us the note she'd sent, but we'd been able to make plans based on Feyre's information. More than anything, it was such a staggering relief to hear that she was ok. Feyre had always been the bravest of us all, though it sometimes pained me to know she'd thought of me as the bravest. Me?

What had I ever done to inspire Feyre? I had always been the eternal optimist trying to turn mud into gold, but Feyre had been the one keeping us alive. I'd known that she and Nesta had done their best to shelter me, but living in Velaris since that day in the cold castle had taught me just how little I'd known about the world.

Before…before being turned, I'd been engaged to marry a man I'd hoped would be good to me. A man that, in name, would have been a catch. But Velaris had opened my eyes. I might have been hopeful back then, but I had also been very blind.

Initially, I'd been terrified at having been turned into a Fae. All my hopes and dreams had been erased, and I'd become numb my first few days in Prythian. Once again, I had started to defer to Nesta for everything, even allowing her to feed me. I still remembered my terror at having been dragged across the sea by the queens. But I also remembered coming out of the Cauldron. I remembered looking into Lucien's eyes and realizing…

Realizing there was so much more to experience in this world. Nesta had never wanted me to ask questions. She'd thought she was protecting me by keeping me in the dark. And that ignorance had been a kindness, but things were different now. I didn't want to be the same fragile girl I was back then. I wanted to be strong and fearless, brave like Feyre.

And being Fae, learning how to move like Mor when she taught us battle stances, learning what it was to be High Fae and trying to figure out my abilities, learning how to be strong; I finally felt like I understood Feyre's world. It was becoming my world now, too.

______________________________________________________________________________________________

Feyre

Tamlin was waiting for me, pacing at the entrance. I was surprised he hadn't left smoke tracks in his wake. Lucian left me without a word. So much for backup.

Tamlin looked at me strangely, then pulled me into his arms. I hid my cringe.

"I heard you screaming, Feyre," he said, quietly.

"Just a nightmare." I looked away. That hadn't been the first time he'd heard me, he'd just never said anything before.

"It won't happen again," he declared. He continued before I could comment, "We're going riding today. Go get changed."


	11. Chapter 11

Feyre

Tamlin and I rode in silence for a while before reaching a small bustling village. It occurred to me that I had never come across this place during my time in Spring months ago. How I had missed this sizeable and noticeably loud portion of the Spring Court...I swallowed the familiar twinge of anger over the shroud that had been firmly placed over my eyes then. Perhaps Tamlin had known even then that he would never hold me if I truly knew all of Prythian. 

We dismounted and I watched as the villagers scurried about the town. They only paused their frenzy to bow to Tamlin and I as we passed. I disliked the pageantry just as much as I had then. How would the villagers, who bowed frigidly eyes cemented on Tamlin, react if they truly saw me; the first High Lady in all Prythian? 

Tamlin cut through the crowded square, not a glance spared at the citizens. The bright village square faded as we passed, the loud gaggle fading as we cut through trees again. I had just opened my mouth to ask Tamlin to explain what this was about when we stopped in front of a decrepit stone tower. A lone sentinel stood just outside a small door. The door handles had been forged from iron.

Again, Tamlin did not wait, but nodded at the sentinel who opened the door. Tamlin and the sentinel waited silently for me to enter, closing the door firmly once we were all inside. My eyes did not struggle to adjust to the dim lighting as they would have when I'd been human. The air was cool inside the tower, though it reeked of staleness. It was not a place that was visited often. We trekked dirt from our travel, kicking up dust on the stone floor.

It was crowded on the inside of the tower; not quite enough space for three people and the large staircase dominating the space. We left the sentinel guarding the door and continued, not up as I'd expected, but down through a narrow doorway near the base of the tower. Tamlin held my hand, supporting my weight as I made my way down the stone staircase.

It hit me as we reached the bottom step: this was a prison.

The space underneath the tower was immense and even my enhanced eyes could not see the end. There were cells at each side of the long hallway; cages of iron bars with only a stone bench for company. We passed through dozens, all empty, before were reached the last one. I did not want to scent this place any longer, to know who was in that solitary cell. I could just make out the shape huddled on the floor, when Tamlin gripped my hand and stopped walking. 

"I'm letting her go against our laws," he said and my eyes darted from his to the cell. He stepped closer. "I'm letting her go, Feyre, against what I've been advised to do, because I trust you. If you say she's not a threat to Spring, I believe you."

Alis! Tamlin let go of my hand and I rushed to the final cell. A sob caught in my throat as I took in her torn, gritty dress, her matted hair, and downcast eyes. Tamlin said nothing as he handed me a set of iron keys and walked back up the staircase.

I scrambled to unlock the door, keys jangling violently, and Alis finally looked up. 

"Feyre!"

I pushed through the doorway, crushing Alis into a fierce hug. She was so thin. I choked out my apologies through my sobs and somehow she was comforting me, patting my back as I cried. 

"Lady Feyre," her voice was a soft rasp, barely intelligible in this gloom. 

I swiped my arm across my eyes. "You're free to go, Alis." I pulled her towards the doorway, but slight as she was, she did not budge. 

Alis shook her head, eyes glimmering. "And what of you? Do you think I would turn tail and run with what's coming from Hybern?"

"You know about Hybern, Alis?"

Her eyes were sad as she said, "Lord Tamlin was kind enough to let my nephews visit. Though it has been a while..."

I closed my eyes, stowing my anger for another time. I clenched and unclenched my fists, willing my rage to seep out of me. 

"I worry for you, Feyre. High Lord Tamlin is no fool. I had hoped you had escaped his grasp."

That's debatable, I thought, but didn't say aloud. Blowing out a steadying breath, I leaned down to whisper to Alis. "Don't worry about me, Alis. I'm stronger than he believes." I rolled up my sleeve and dismantled the intricate glamour on my arm; showing her the tattoo that proclaimed me High Lady of the Night Court. 

Alis gasped, a startled smile flashing across her face. She stroked the swirling ink with shaking fingers. 

"High Lady..."

"Go to Summer, Alis, it's safe there for you. Tarquin..." I swallowed. "High Lord Tarquin will protect you from what's coming."

My face heated, but I continued. "I won't be able to visit you. Not because of Tamlin, but because of the blood ruby Tarquin sent me." I told her quickly about my visit to Summer and how we'd had no choice but to take the Book of Breathings. I told her how Rhys, Amren, and I had been since marked as enemies of Summer. 

Not having trusted Tarquin was one of my bigger regrets, though I still did not know if he would have trusted us with the Book. It had all blown up in our faces, anyways. The King of Hybern had won that battle, though I was trying to rectify it now in Spring.

Alis choked out a startled laugh. "High Lady, indeed."

There was a pause and we both sobered.

"What do you need me to do, Feyre?"

"Alis..." I couldn't ask her. She'd already been imprisoned once, but she seemed to know what I was thinking and shook her head, looking so much like her old self chastising me back at the Spring manor.

"Feyre, war is coming to Prythian. I know that I look weak to you," I shook my head no, but she continued. "I will help whatever way I can."

I thought for a minute. Alis was returning to Summer and if there was a chance Tarquin would listen to her... I nodded. 

"Talk to Lord Tarquin. Tell him I will explain to him in person someday, that I wish things could have been easier. I meant what I said to him during my visit to Summer and, although we broke his trust, I truly hope we can be allies someday. If not as friends, then at least against Hybern. Convince him to speak to Rhysand. Rhysand is...not who he pretends to be. The Night Court is not all it seems and everything we did was to protect a place we call the Court of Dreams. Tell him that Rhysand is my true mate," Alis' eyes bulged at that. "And that I am the first High Lady of Prythian. Alis, we don't have time to waste. The King of Hybern plans on attacking Summer if Tamlin doesn't produce the book after next week. But he may not wait that long, tell him to prepare. I am doing all I can for Prythian in Spring."

Alis nodded. "Of course, High Lady Feyre. I swear I will do whatever I can."

A pointed cough near the entrance of the prison made us both turn. Alis covered my arm as I quickly glamoured it again. The sentinel came towards us, stopping a few feet away. He likely couldn't have heard us at that distance, but how long had he been standing there?

"Lord Tamlin has graciously provided a carriage to take you and your nephews wherever you need go, Alis. Your nephews as well as your belongings have already been loaded into the carriage outside."

Alis nodded her thanks and we began walking out of the cell, my arm wrapped around her waist to help support her.

Another cough, I turned. "Lady Feyre, Lord Tamlin awaits you back at the manor. He had urgent business to attend to, but said for you to meet him for dinner. He also said he hopes Alis' pardon pleases you."

"Thank you," I replied, stiffly. We climbed the steps to exit the prison and I supported Alis as best I could, helping her into the gray carriage where her nephews waited.

As we hugged, Alis swore she wouldn't tell anyone of my status of High Lady and that she would try to speak to Tarquin on the behalf of the Night Court. I could only hope Tarquin would listen and not turn on me.

I stood by the crumbling tower and watched the small carriage fade into the distance, feeling alone, but grateful. Wondering what the price of Alis' freedom would be.


	12. Chapter 12

Feyre

Days passed and Tamlin didn’t pressure me to share his bed, though I could tell he was becoming frustrated. Our “marriage” would not be valid without that crucial step. And that would not be happening if I could help it. If Tamlin thought setting Alis free would somehow make me pliant, he was in for a sour surprise. 

Still, I noticed Tamlin was growing distant, occasionally leaving to deal with court matters. With Tarquin set against communication with Spring, there had been no new information. I took the time to continue training instead.

Every day, I would wake before the servants and winnow to the forest to train. I would first run through the exercises I’d practiced with Cassian and follow by practicing my magic. 

The ache that had been a stitch in my side since I’d arrived at Spring had abated now that I had ample opportunities to release my magic. 

I had to be careful, picking a new spot to practice in every day. There had been a few close calls where I’d narrowly avoided Tamlin’s sentries on their patrols. Each day I found myself exploring a bit more of the Spring Court, committing the landmarks to my mental map.

I had just finished my training one day when I heard two figures arguing, coming close to where I stood. I quickly gathered shadows over me, using wind to mask my scent, and listened. 

I almost fell over when I saw who it was: Ianthe. Ianthe and Tamlin. 

I could only hear picked out words from where I stood.  
“…Calanmai…”

“…Hybern said…Feyre…”

My heart skipped a beat and I shifted closer. I could see them better now and balked at how close they stood to each other. 

Tamlin looked affronted. “I’ve already explained to you why that can’t happen, Ianthe.”

“Tammy—” TAMMY? She splayed a hand on his chest. “What happened on Calanmai was destiny, don’t you see?”

“No, Ianthe. It was simply the misfortune of Feyre being trapped in another court. I have her back now and I’ve told you I don’t want to hear another word of this.”  
He was seething, even as Ianthe still tried to dip her claws in him. I wanted to rip her face off. 

“You say that, but have you told your beloved about Calanmai?” She shot him a wicked grin, licking her lip slowly.

Oh, gods. I hadn’t even thought about Calanmai. What had he done? Had Ianthe been his maiden? I was going to be sick.

Ianthe seized her opportunity in his silence, pulling him towards her by the dip in his slacks. He let her kiss him, let her slobber in his mouth for a few minutes before he released her. 

“Feyre is mine, Ianthe. I will not share her and I will not be shared. I won’t say it again.” Share me? Share me with who?

“Of course, Tammy,” she purred.

Suddenly Tamlin paused, glancing around. I froze, making sure my magic still shielded me. 

“We should get back, Ianthe.”

I waited until they had walked further away before winnowing back to the manor. 

Ianthe and Tamlin on Calanmai, I ran back to my room and screamed into my pillow. Disgust flew through the bond. 

Not too much later, Tammy returned to the manor. He was in a sour mood. I made sure to greet him as he walked in, planting a hearty kiss on his cheek. Wickedly delighted at the guilt that shone in his eyes. 

Lucian peeked out from the dining hall. “Lord Tamlin? The meeting is starting. The other lords will be here any minute.”

Tamlin, damn him, made to go around me into the dining hall. I clung to his hand, stopping his tracks. 

“I’d like to join you, today, Tam,” I said, flashing a sweet smile at him. It was perfect timing, really, because he wouldn’t deny me after the scene in the woods.  
“Of course, Feyre. Come, sit beside me.”

I felt a roar of triumph through the bond. Could Rhys hear what was happening again? 

My smile was genuine as I stepped inside and the door closed behind me.

______________________________________________________________________________________________

Feyre

The dining room was abuzz with last minute arrangements for the meeting. The mahogany table had been elongated to seat more people, its usual chairs swapped out for overly-ornate ones. The servants finished arranging the room and left quickly. Lucian and the few sentries who had been invited to the meeting, stood at attention as Tamlin walked in. 

I followed Tamlin who motioned for me to sit next to him at the head of the table. No King of Hybern, then. 

I sat down just as the High Lords began to arrive, only a few came with sentries of their own. Four chairs filled, the fifth acutely empty. Tarquin was remarkably absent. And although I was proud of his unwillingness to play pawn, I worried at what Hybern might do in retaliation. Of course Rhysand had not been invited. 

Most of the men, I recognized from Under the Mountain though I hadn’t seen them since. It was hard to forget the moment the seven High Lords had revived me after I’d been destroyed by Amarantha. Unbeknownst to them, by imbuing me with a sliver of their life force, they had also given me a piece of their magic. I hoped they didn’t recognize it now. 

“Welcome to Spring, fellow High Lords,” Tamlin rumbled, then gestured to me with a wave. “I formally introduce to you my wife, Lady of Spring, Feyre Cursebreaker.”  
The five High Lords turned from Tamlin to face me, the darling Lady of Spring. My skin crawled at the sensation of five sets of piercing eyes raking over me. Lady, not High Lady. If they only knew. 

The first to speak was a tall, radiant man dressed in luminous robes of gold and ruby. His jeweled outfit glittered even under the soft lights of the dining room and I wondered if he would truly glow in sunlight. He spoke slowly in a soothing baritone, as if he had all the time in the world, “Lady Feyre, I am Eos, High Lord of the Dawn Court. Well met.” He inclined his head briefly at me and I did the same. 

The next to speak flashed a playful, intoxicating grin before he spoke. His voice boomed through the room, startling a few sentries with his abruptness, “Feyre Cursebreaker! I am Helion from the Day Court.” Helion was dark-skinned, his voluminous mane of hair black as night. His muscles visible even through his loose tunic. His excitement was contagious and I found myself grinning back at him.

The third lord, Kallias of the Winter Court, I had seen not long ago when he had pledged himself to Hybern. He merely nodded stiffly at me and my grin faded. I wondered if it was cold under the icy crown atop his head. I regarded him with equal frostiness, moving on.

The last Lord, I was also familiar with. His handsome face had twisted into a sneer. “High Lord Beron, Autumn Court.” I knew him as Lucian’s toxic father, who had murdered the woman Lucian had loved because she was not High Fae. He’d sooner seen her dead than to have his son marry beneath his status. I knew no title I held would command his respect, but I wondered what he would do if I flashed my swirling black tattoo at him. Maybe someday I’d have the opportunity to show him. I could feel Rhysand’s dark pleasure at that idea. 

“Well met, High Lords of Prythian,” I responded, glancing at each High Lord in turn again. 

The High Lords turned their attention to Tamlin, waiting for him to speak. I ground my teeth, though I supposed it was better they didn't pay attention to me. It was better to be underestimated under my circumstances. Lord Beron, however, kept his fiery gaze on me and I forced myself to look at Tamlin before I could find myself doing something stupid. Rhys growled through the bond.

“Thank you for meeting with me, High Lords,” Tamlin declared. “By now, you must have all received notice from the King of Hybern.” Some of the Lords nodded, while a few grumbled. I tried not to look too interested, silently taking stock of those grumbles even as I felt Beron’s eyes still trained on me. 

“Lord Tamlin, if I may,” Helion spoke softly. “We just ended Amarantha’s reign, thanks of course to Feyre Cursebreaker.” He smiled at me again before continuing. “We at the Day Court are not ready to swear fealty to another King. One who has brought war upon us before, at that.”

“Helion,” Kallias interjected. “You fail to see the boon we have been given by the King. This could be our only chance to bring the Night Court and Rhysand to their knees. After what they…what he did to Winter, to our children…I’ve pledged my court to Hybern if he will help us raze that court to the ground.”

“Kallias!” Helion’s eyes flicked to me, then away. “If we swear fealty to Hybern will we find ourselves under the thumb of another tyrant? Let him tear the wall down, but Day will not pledge to him.”

So. The Lords thought that was Hybern’s plan; simply to tear down the wall. They had no idea what the mad King was really planning, what he was capable. I wished I could speak up. 

Tamlin nodded, his gaze moving past the two Lords. “What about you, Eos? Beron?”

Beron smirked. “The Autumn Court has already allied with the King of Hybern. We look forward to working with you and your lovely Lady Feyre.”

Eos frowned. “I will have to consult my people again, Lord Tamlin. Forgive me.”

Tamlin waved him away. “Lords, the King of Hybern has given us all a week to decide where we stand in the face of history. I urge you to not find yourselves on the wrong side.” He shot pointed glances at Lords Eos and Helion, then at the empty chair Lord Tarquin should have occupied. Eos frowned at the empty chair and I could see the confusion there, as though he couldn’t make sense of Tarquin’s absence. 

“The meeting is adjourned. We will meet again in exactly one week. Thank you for your time.”

The Lords muttered their thanks, rushed goodbyes as they winnowed back to their distant courts. Beron lingered, glaring at Lucien before winnowing away. To his credit, Lucien merely rolled his eyes and left the room. The sentries followed soon after.

I was still reeling with the information I’d learned when Tamlin strode to the doorway. I scrambled to meet him as half the chairs and table vanished.

He paused in the doorway, brushing a strand of hair from my face. I couldn’t help but shudder at the thought of those hands being on Ianthe not so long ago. Tamlin, thankfully, dismissed the gesture.

“I have to go report to Jurien now, love. That’s not a meeting I’d like for you to attend.” 

I shuddered. No, and I wouldn’t like to either. “Thank you for allowing me to be at this meeting, Tamlin.”

He leaned down and pressed a slow kiss against my lips. “I will be back in a few hours.” Tamlin winnowed away.


	13. Chapter 13

Feyre

I sat alone in my painting room thinking about how to get the information to Rhys. Our bond was still healing, but it seemed we could now send vague images down the line. At least, he seemed to be receiving more than I was. I had no access to the enchanted paper, but….

The thought hit me as I glanced around the painting room. Of course. Who needs enchanted paper when you have paint? I pulled out a couple of blank canvases and got started.

Using chrome yellow and varying shades of red, I painted two Suns on the first canvas. The first was red-gold for Dawn Court, reminiscent of the ruby-red robes Eos had worn today. The second sun I painted high in the sky (Day Court). Instead of a clear blue sky, I painted the night sky. Swaths of violet and indigo blue paint streaked through the dark sky, the soothing darkness of a calm Summer night. The glowing suns seemed to light up in the dark. Hopefully signifying them as potential allies to Rhys.

The next canvas was difficult with the strong feeling of betrayal still cutting through me. Remembering Kallias' icy crown, I painted a metallic black crown (Hybern) coated in fire (Autumn) with spikes of ice (Winter) coating the sharp tips.

Satisfied with the messages I'd painted, I focused on sending each image to Rhysand as strongly as I could. In my mind, I sent him each slather of paint; first indigoes, goldenrods, and violets; then, the slick black, burning reds, and pale cold blues.

When I was sure he had received each image and corresponding message, I sighed with relief. Then, I felt his laughter filling me. Prick. I was doing the best I could.

Carefully, I burned each painting before they could be discovered by anyone. I stood from my bench, stretching my arms and rolling out my shoulders. I hadn't been painting long, but I'd been up for hours and I felt quite drained. I longed for the days when speaking to Rhys through the bond had been as easy as breathing.

It had been a very long day. Yawning, I stretched out on the bench and passed out.

______________________________________________________________________________________________

I sagged onto the cold stone floor of Hybern's castle. I could feel the bite of the manacles cutting into my skin, but I had no more fight left in me.

Before me, stood two large creatures. They were covered in spines that oozed rusted red liquid as they spoke in a skittering language. Their black spiderlike limbs scratched me as they poked and prodded me.

I saw his shadow before the creatures parted to let him through. The King of Hybern.

"Cursebreaker," he scoffed. I felt two sets of seven glittering eyes on me; the horrifying creatures waiting ravenously as the King drew near.

I had no spark, no retorts left. Silence rang a constant throbbing beat throughout the hall, even as the creatures' hunger became near palpable.

"If you had only listened. Look at what your disobedience has wrought, dear Feyre." I turned to look against my will, knowing what—knowing who—I would see.

Beside me lay the bones of my friends, my family,…Rhysand. Across the floor were the tattered bits of luminescent wings.

I couldn't help the sob that escaped and the creatures shifted, their grins morphing into mouths of jagged teeth, saliva dripping in anticipation.

"You, I will allow to live a thousand years. And everyday you will face the corpses of your friends knowing you failed them."

______________________________________________________________________________________________

I was screaming.

Someone was shaking me out of my nightmare and I was momentarily disoriented, forgetting where I was. I reached with my arms, looking for the only one who had soothed me not long ago.

I felt his arms curl around me, pulling me to his chest to comfort me.

In my distraught state, I didn't think before I said, sobbing, "Oh, Rhys."

Tamlin roared, dropping me to the floor. I hit the icy floor hard, the fall snapping me out of my dreamy state.

And I tensed, waiting for the blow that would come next.

Tamlin's eyes narrowed at that flinch and I saw the shift in his anger pulling him into blinding rage. Numb as I was, I could only stare as he ripped apart canvas after canvas, flung my paints across the room where they shattered against the walls. The madness too familiar as the red paint pooled across the floor. 

I shook with the desire to strike at him, knowing I could shred him to pieces as he so easily destroyed what had once been my sanctuary. But not yet, not yet. Angry tears spilled from my eyes, as much from the awful nightmare as with my desire for retribution. I left him to his madness and left the manor.

______________________________________________________________________________________________

I had reached the edge of the garden when I noticed the absence of sound. I was near enough to the dark forest where the sounds of animal life should have been apparent. Yet no owls hooted, no tiny animals skittered; even the wind had quieted. I knew, as I turned, what I would find behind me.

The Suriel.

It stood at full height in the shadows of the tree line. Even in the full darkness of a night with no moon, I could make out the spiny figure waiting. No one else had noticed the hulking mass, a bony hand waving a motion to follow. I hadn't summoned the Suriel. Did the same ancient rules apply if the tables were turned?

Unsure, but unwilling to pass up the opportunity, I followed the Suriel further into the forest. The trees growing more gnarled as I trailed the shadowy figure, the night muting as we went. Minutes passed before it finally paused and turned to face me, its skeletal head creaking as it tilted to assess me.

I caught my breath as I waited for it to speak, stopping with less than a few paces between us.

"Hello, Feyre."

"What do you want? I didn't summon you."

A shadowy grin flitted across its face. "I'm not here under summons, though I've wondered if you would call again. You are a most curious creature, Feyre. I'm here because the world is shifting. I'm here to warn you, though I must admit that it's as much for my gain as yours, High Lady."

If the Suriel were here of his own accord, there had to be a good reason. I didn't think the Suriel gave out free information. This had to be important, then, something that would affect both our fates. And he'd called me High Lady, but was that in honor or as an insult? I brushed it off, "Warn me?"

"This world is but one song that begun with a single note. It has rippled and changed throughout my existence. I have felt, at times, a thread pulling like the string of a guitar. And I have, time and again, seen the aftermath when those strings snapped by callous players; the ripple that twangs throughout the world, our realm. I have never felt a string that hums quite like yours, however. Curious.

"I can feel your futures as they vibrate in three directions. I am here to give you a gift, should you accept. Tell me, Feyre, would you like to see these futures?"

A glimpse of my future? "I don't have a cloak for you—"

"—no matter. As I said earlier, I am here as much for you as I am for myself. For the paths in which you stand will lead to either salvation or destruction of this world."

I gaped.

"Would you like to see them?"

I could almost hear Rhysand pleading against this, his desperation clanged through the bond. But I couldn't walk away from this. If there were a chance I could use this information against Hybern…

I nodded.

The Suriel drew closer and I tried not to inch away.

"No questions today," it warned. "There are three paths wavering ahead of you. The first would see you reunited with your beloved Night Court. You live in peace for a time, before Hybern arrives to consume you. Leave the Spring Court now and the King acquires the Book of Breathings. He will destroy your court and this world will end."

I stared, eyes wide and horrified. The first path sounded a lot like the nightmares I'd been having lately.

"The second," it said. "is best if you see for yourself." The Suriel's sharp teeth flashed again, was that a grin? I shivered.

"How?"

"Gaze into my mind with your daemati abilities."

This was what I'd agreed to. I was sure I could walk away from the Suriel and it would not stop me. But Rhysand had trained me himself and I had polished that particular ability for months now. I almost smiled, feeling Rhys groan at my poor decision making skills.

Closing my eyes, I left a sliver open, examining its strength before crossing into the Suriel's mind. Before I could examine the strange ancient walls, I felt the walls blur away.

______________________________________________________________________________________________

I was in a palace high above the mountains, overlooking the sea. The Court of Dreams, I thought delightedly. I sat in a soft, cream colored armchair that had been pulled next to the railing. The wind was cool on my face, though not unpleasant. I leaned into the soothing touch of night air.

I chuckled as I felt two soft kicks from inside my womb. A rush of excitement pulsed through me and I placed a hand over my bump. I was pregnant, only a few months along.

I felt him behind me then and his arms reached to wrap around me. I leaned into his warmth, overwhelmed with happiness.

"You were right, Feyre, this place is beautiful."

But. I recoiled at his voice, whirling to see his face in the wrongness of it. Behind me was Tamlin, not Rhysand.

That's when I noticed the heavy manacles clasped around my wrists, the tight collar that sliced against my throat. And I felt true horror as I saw the King of Hybern seated on a throne behind us. Rhysand's throne.

There was a struggle as my friends: Cassian, Azriel, and Mor were brought out into the room by Jurien. The wind now swirled icily around us. My friends had been broken, tied together by a wicked set of rusting chains. Their skin was marred, bearing both new and old wounds. How long had they been tortured for? Where was Rhysand? Where was Amren? My sisters?

Wielding the Book of Breathings, the King looked at me and said, "Begin."

I was powerless to stop my own hands as they rose up. Tamlin's eyes were glazed over as though he could not see me. I felt the magic ripple out of me, nauseatingly against my will, but I did not struggle in this future. My friends screamed as my magic whipped and tore at them. The King laughed and finally released me from his compulsion.

Once again, I felt Tamlin's arms encase me. Tamlin smiled and caressed my bump carrying his child.

______________________________________________________________________________________________

"Oh, fuck!" the only words I could choke out before I vomited on the ground.

The Suriel shifted its head again, waiting as I collected myself. It hadn't happened. Yet. It wasn't real. Yet.

I swiped at my mouth, wishing I could erase the vile taste in my mouth. "You said there were three paths. What is the third?"

He clicked his tongue. "Ah, yes. The third is the haziest and thinnest thread of all. Though the first two paths end in darkness, the third ends in light. That one I cannot show you, for it shifts often enough to be dangerous for a visit."

I sagged against the base of a tree, still sick at the vision the Suriel had shown me.

"High Lady," it continued. "Though your emotions are delightful to feast upon, we do not have much time. So I will leave you with this: You must obtain the Book before the King can get his hands on it. Play the strings carefully and they will not snap. This is your task. Should you fail…"

"I don't want to see the first future do I?"

"No, High Lady, that is not a future even I want to see come to pass."

I turned as a branch snapped behind us and when I turned to the Suriel, it was gone. I gazed into the smoky blackness, but couldn't see anyone. It was still so dark, whoever was there likely hadn't seen me as well.

I piled the nighttime shadows over me, blending into the night and slowly made my way back to the manor. I never did see anyone else.


End file.
